


Rome While it Burns

by loveliestfirebird



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveliestfirebird/pseuds/loveliestfirebird
Summary: After a too long time of court dates where she stood trial for the gruesome murder of her husband, Belle is sent away for her own protection under the watchful care of Mr. Gold as his fake girlfriend.





	1. Arrest

Belle LeGume sighed as she leaned against the backseat window in an armored car on her way to a small town in the middle of nowhere. She glanced down at her fingertips and could still see the stains of her deceased husband’s blood. She shuddered and reached into her bag to pull on her gloves. Two years of court dates, repeating her statement and every single second of reliving that day. Her heart wrenched and she took several deep breaths to keep her chest from hurting. With shaking hands she searched for her phone only to remember she’d had to leave nearly everything behind just that morning. It was raring on seven in the morning, so her therapist wouldn’t be up just yet anyway. She wasn’t even certain if she could talk with him anyway. 

“We’ll stop in just a few minutes.” The driver, Dove, had been quiet the entire ride up outside of these minor updates.

Belle nodded to herself. She reached into the bag for the journal of information. She wasn’t given a name of the town, but she was given a description about the person she’d be staying with. His last name was Gold and he wasn’t exactly well liked within his town. They gave her warnings about his attitude. But he was fierce in his ability to keep people protected. He’d done it several times before and they’d gone on to live better lives without living in fear. Beforehand, he’d fostered a son who’d come to call the man father. Belle suspected he may perhaps be so disliked because of his need to keep others protected. She didn’t want the protection exactly. She needed a companion during this time. Someone to talk to and look upon her with kindness the way people used to.

She’d been promised that this new town wouldn’t know a thing about her. Her identity would even be changed to Lacey and her surname would be her mother’s maiden name. Most of her clothes would be re-bought by Gold until she was capable enough to get a job. She’d get a new phone before too long as well and Gold would be the one in main contact with her therapist. There was so much to do, so much horrifying change and quickly that Belle didn’t want to be ready for it. When the car stopped, Dove gave her a patient smile while he got out to fill the car up and she hugged herself. He tapped the window and she begrudgingly rolled it down.

“Do you want anything from inside?”

“One of those bottled teas?” Belle asked, pulling a sweater around her shoulders.

“Sure thing. Go ahead and get some rest, okay?”

Belle nodded and said nothing more.

Several hours later at two o’clock on the eastern time zone in the northern most corner of the States, Belle awoke. She was a long cry from California and the life her mother had given her and the one her father brought her up in. Far away from the little church she’d gotten married in and the large house she’d loved her husband for a little while. Gone from the court dates, gone from the offices of lawyers and all the horribleness she prayerfully wouldn’t have to deal with anymore. This was her new world. _Just please, please, let Gold be nice._

Belle hesitantly got out of the car to stretch her legs and let Dove gathered her one suitcase that could have been just put in the backseat. It was chunky and plastic, nothing like her own suitcases she used to use for travel. It would serve its purposes for going across the country after taking a plane from California to somewhere in the Midwest all under her new identity. Going through the airport as Lacey French had been surreal as if everything had just hit her that she was never going back. Taking a deep breath and grabbing her bag out of the backseat, she hugged it to her chest. Dove placed a hand on her shoulder and for the first time in two years she didn’t flinch. Glancing over her shoulder, she returned his smile. He had been kind, if nothing else, during this process. He was Gold’s personal hire and if the man himself was so horrible, it was a polite gesture to have someone nice escort her to Maine.

They were parked in front of a large salmon colored Victorian house on the edge of the city. Sizable enough to fit the man’s prior job of a foster home, but probably not bought with it. She clung tighter to her bag as she walked up the steps to the small stone porch. There were rose bushes on either side that needed trimming. Dove stepped ahead to knock on the wooden door after punching the small doorbell. She felt like a small child standing there visiting a friend’s house for the very first time. At the friend’s birthday party and she didn’t bring a gift. She looked up at Dove who didn’t appear too worried. The door handle turned with a soft click and the breath caught in her throat. She stepped closer to Dove. He gave a curious look, but didn’t seem to mind.

Gold, or who she presumed to be Gold, saw Dove before her and it allowed for observation between the three of them. He was a soft featured man with gentle wisps of hair fluttering out about his shoulders. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were honey or more a whiskey. Dove stood taller than him by at least a foot, making Gold just slightly above her height as well. He dressed fine in an almost too familiar way. She tried not to let her fears about a man in a simple suit get to her immediately before they could be properly introduced.

“Thank you, Dove. I’ll take over from here. Set the suitcase in her room.” Mr. Gold moved back, holding a cane, and allowed them both in.

“Your house is lovely.” She commented for sake of conversation. He regarded her then. The greeting smile appeared strained, as if he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Avonlea.” He called her by her maiden name, which she was thankful for. “Come, let’s discuss things in the sitting room.”

A loud noise sounded from upstairs. Startling her, Belle jumped and reflexively grasped onto the nearest thing. His arm, more accurately his sleeve, was clutched tight in a fist. He looked at the hand then up at the roof.

“Sorry.” Dove called, coming back down the stairs off to the side of the entryway. “Packed more books than clothes and they managed to topple out.”

“It’s fine.” Gold dismissed. Belle relaxed, but didn’t let go of his arm. He looked at her face and through her eyes. “It’s fine.”

She nodded again and followed him quietly to the adjacent room. Everything was decorated with a specific antique style in mind, it seemed. She wondered if he were a collector of some sort and these were things he’d gathered in his ventures to get other things. While they sat on the maroon loveseat together, Dove went to the kitchen and began fiddling with something to give Belle and Mr. Gold a chance to further talk.

“We’ll take this step by step. It’s a very slow process, adjusting after what you’ve been through in a brand new place.”

“I hear you’re the best.” 

“I certainly am.” He agreed. “I was briefed on your case, so I understand certain cues on how to make this endeavor better for the both of us.”

“You don’t think I did it.” 

“I’m to protect you and that I’ll do in exchange for your compliance. That was the deal.” 

He didn’t have the look on his face or the tilt of his head those who thought she was guilty normally carried. “What’s my story of being here?”

“People move in and out of the town all the time. There’s no need to worry.”

“I was warned about your…despondent impact on the town. Wouldn’t it be strange of me to just be living with you?”

His lip quirked, but in annoyance. “I’ll agree with whatever story you can come up with. Due to my…despondency on the town as you so eloquently put it, people stay out of my affairs.”

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you.” She bowed her head. Almost as if she were submitting to him in a strange way. “I just don’t want questions.”

“How about this.” He turned his body towards her. “You spend today getting acquainted with your room and the rest of the house. Then, at dinner we can talk about this. Upstairs to the left.”

His features were soft when she looked upon his face. She didn’t know what overcame her, but she trusted him the way that Dove had promised she would come to. She reached a very careful hand forward and placed it on his. With a wordless smile they exchanged, she was comforted and stood with his support. Her fingers seemed to linger, though she hadn’t intended. She skipped up the steps and located the room he was talking about. There was a key chain attached to a tassel left hanging in the lock. She took it with a timid smile and opened the door. 

The walls were a dark wood and she recognized the tall windows that overlooked that small but bountiful garden. Rose bushes were just in bloom right near a black steal chair beneath a pergola. She could almost already visualize Mr. Gold sitting there in spring or on a calm summer’s day taking in the rays with a good book and a forgotten, condensated glass. She spotted someone walking along the sidewalk and withdrew quickly as if they’d be able to spot the new stranger. She went to her suitcase by the door and began unpacking her personal things. Where she thought Dove had already placed a few books here and there to make it look lived in, she found they were Gold’s copies. Hers were situated neatly in a line on a floating shelf above an ebony dresser with cold silver handles.

In her suitcase was nothing identifiable, like her former designer clothes. A non-descript amount of dresses, none of her shoes, and a few journals as well as a teddy bear from her childhood. She hung up the clothes in the small closet and examined the bed on how to arrange things herself. It was cozy with a cream duvet and sham set, dark tufted sham set, velvet pillow, moroccan pouf string lights. The headboard as well as the floor was a dark wood similar to the rest of the house. His style felt very similar to her own. Maybe with a little more natural light in the room, but she could have had it worse. She could be in a Californian mansion with the ghost of her husband around every corner making her sleepwalking turn into night terrors. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and sat on the bed to go through her journal to practice a back story for Lacey French. 

Several hours later, she awoke to the smell of spices coming from under the door. She got up after discovering she wrote three sentences about Lacey French nonsensically before falling asleep. Before heading downstairs to see if she could help Mr. Gold with whatever he was making, she changed into her flowery pink pajamas and grey bunny slippers that had been left for her. The clothes were a bit big, but she’d preferred her sleeping clothes baggy. She brushed her hair in the mirror next to the windows and wished she’d brought her makeup remover with her. It always felt cleaner to her rather than soap and water, which she’d use afterwords. A minuscule detail to fret over, but better to think of rather than her current situation.Any little thing helped, like the books Gold owned and the way he’d chosen this warm lit room for her own. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d been able to house those in witness protection, but she was grateful for it.

Mr. Gold was stood downstairs in the kitchen in the same suit he was wearing earlier, but with a dishtowel slung across his shoulder. He was whistling along to a song playing on his tablet sitting on the island counter. An ad for some movie started and he turned to mute it, noticing her then with a calm smile. She slid onto the barstool at the breakfast bar and folded her hands.

“Smells wonderful in here.”

“First meal is always a specialty.” He grabbed a skillet and began to make jerking motions to mix the grilled vegetables together. “Did you have a nice rest?”

“More tired than I thought. I was working on my story for being here and fell asleep.” She moved to stand near him and stole a piece of cucumber.

“How far did you get?”

“My name is Lacey French.” She crunched into the sliced fruit. He raised a brow at her direction.

“Thank you for not boring me with the details. I’ve been thinking this over as well.” He plated the grilled vegetables and fruit on a skewer alongside readily made burgers.

“What did you come up with?” She asked, smiling as he poured her a glass of tea from a pitcher.

“I travel often. You’re a business associate staying with me for a time until you return to Australia.” His voice sounded rehearsed, as if he were preparing for her to decline on all counts.

“Would explain why I’m with you all of the time.” Belle agreed. “Will you be gone while I’m here?”

“Not for awhile.” He assured, eating from his skewer. “But we should discuss house rules now before you go back to bed.”

He explained first and foremost that she was available to leave at any moment, although it wasn’t advised. Her situation was delicate and she would be required to undergo a drug and alcohol test every other week. Should she fail, she’d be incarcerated in Storybrooke and her handler alerted. She’d undergo a polygraph test, much like the one she’d done two weeks ago. Quite a few of those that entered witness protection were criminals themselves or had been incarcerated. They wanted her to be safe, but they wanted her pristine as it was. Needless to say, her entire life was changed much more than she initially thought. Any spouse she were to find from now on would never know the life she lead before. For all of these reasons, Gold’s house rules list was rather fair in her mind.

Her need to get a job quickly was saved being Gold’s associate. They’d sit down and create a payment plan shortly when everything was settled and her new bank account had something to put in it. The car witness protection were sending for her would be kept in the garage until she settled in and they were certain she hadn’t been followed. The thought was unnerving, but she trusted him to keep that from having. Dove wouldn’t have contact with her in public spaces, seeing as nobody ever had beside from him. Belle wondered about the quiet giant’s family or if he had anybody to care for him as he had for others. She then thought about if Gold had family in a private home somewhere to protect them or if she were it for him. Staying by his side as they planned seemed like something a lonely person would request, perhaps. She’d prefer it that way as well.

“You’ll be joining me in the morning for errands around town. After we get you a cell phone, you will be permitted to roam town on your own, but reporting to me. I will also be going through your phone and room constantly.”

That felt like a breach of privacy she wasn’t comfortable with. Rather than argue with him though, she knew it was for her own safety and he couldn’t possibly trust her right now. While his face was that of someone she could casually trust, like the mailman or the person behind her in a grocery store, paying for his groceries didn’t mean she would entrust him. Even being forced to do so would was a difficult situation that she took in stride. She would both because she didn’t have a choice and also because he had very well saved her life. If she wasn’t here in a small Maine town, she could have been in somewhere worse. She was an emotional deformity to every pair of eyes she’d met in the last two years. If he could look into her eyes and not see what others had, she could allow him to infiltrate her every second.

“Can I ask you one thing?” She requested, mood turning solemn. “I want you to look into my eyes and tell me what you think of the case.”

Gold was slower at wiping his mouth with a white cloth napkin at this, but eventually did fold it across his dinner plate. He looked into her eyes and with a speckle of spinach between his front two teeth looked in her eyes and answered. 

“I don’t receive any information from the case. I’ve known guilty criminals and innocent bystanders. I don’t think you’re either.”

Belle could accept that and smiled patiently at him. “Thank you.” She placed a hand over his writ then retracted it before her next question. “Do you have any books on the type of work you do here? Imagine it’ll be hard to sleep for a few nights fully.”

He pointed to a corner of the house that was considerably darker than the rest of the house. The only light was from the table lamp. “Just there, should be several old textbooks but they’re still relevant.”

“Mind if I take them up with me?” She asked, sliding off the barstool and heading out of the kitchen towards the room. She heard the click of his cane on wood flooring following slowly behind her.

“Whatever you like. Anything this house is yours. Except, I do ask that you don’t visit my room or the upstairs office when I’m not around.” He advised courteously.

“Of course.” She called over her shoulder as her non-manicured pointer finger along the spines of the books.

Belle surveyed the books both newer and older and found they mostly dealt with antiquities or finances, as well as a scattered few intro-level law books. The ones in her room had been more of the fictional classic variety that every literary snob should have, but he still seemed like a Jack of All Trades. He was clearly intelligent and studied several different subjects. She wanted to take one in every that he had, but really didn’t want to be up all night. At this miniature reading nook or study corner was also a business card holder from offices around the east coast, each signed by the listed proprietor or owner as well as a post it note about how, presumably Gold, felt about them as a person. He didn’t seem to care about many, if any at all.

“I’ll be by your room to tell you goodnight before I go up.” Gold drew her out of her snooping. Glancing over her shoulder she could see he was slumped over a cell phone and notebook.

“Of course. Good night, Mr. Gold.”

—

Gold watched the new house guest as she went back upstairs, an unsettling chill still lingering across his spine.

Not long after Ms. French had gone to sleep, she’d began screaming in a hellish way. He rushed up as best he could, but he knew it was a combination of lack of sleep, being in an unusual house, and that she’d been accused of killing her husband. He doubted she really got a night’s sleep at all since the attack happened. But this was…different. Belle’s screams of terror were guttural, as if something was strangling her and trying to get out. He sighed and went to the bathroom to unlock the emergency kit beneath the sink. He grabbed the shot he was required to keep in the house in case something happened. He didn’t know if he would need it right now, but he wanted to have it close just in case.

Belle was talking in tongues when he returned and she was about to rip her teddy bear in two. He could hear the seams popping under the pressure. Removing it from her was more difficult than he imagined, but he did put it in a safe place. She was looking right at him when he grabbed her wrists to keep her from hitting him too hard, though she wasn’t conscious. He finally caught that she was speaking in broken French and caught the phrase _I’ll do it again_. His hold on her arms weakened and she wriggled out of his grasp enough to hit him right in the chest in a stabbing motion. It could’ve knocked the breath out of his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating may increase and for later chapters and I'm still debating about going into details about Gaston's murder which will call for the "graphic details of violence" tag, so be warned.
> 
> Also: Belle's maiden name was Avonlea, which she couldn't use for her protection, LeGume was her married name which she obviously couldn't use, so she uses Collete's maiden name French so I can keep her "Belle French". Just in case there's any confusion about that.


	2. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter, I mentioned keeping her Belle French, but that is not true when she's out and about in Storybrooke. She's Lacey French to anyone but Gold and Dove.
> 
> Lumiere Light - Lumiere   
> Cognac Worthy - Cogsworth  
> Wandla - The Wardrobe  
> Ette - Plumette the feather duster

Belle dressed in a light pink spring dress as she walked with Mr. Gold out on the town. It had taken some persuasion on his part and she wouldn’t leave until after a shower, but she did manage to step out into the brand new world. She’d only breathed Storybrooke air for a brief time from Dove’s car to the inside of Gold’s house, but she knew what to expect. The harsh oceanic air was biting, but not intolerable. Around her neck graced a comforting woven scarf Gold had lying about and offered to prepare her. She was used to the heat and comfort of California. This would take some getting used to, but she never acted like anything was wrong. She’d woken from an awful nightmare when she’d finally gone to sleep just give hours ago. Gold had come in and was rocking her gently as she came down from the adrenaline rush that left her drained and dreary eyed but no closer to sleep.

Standing by his side as they walked along Main Street and the central nervous system of shops that Mr. Gold either owned or felt important enough for her to know, she did feel safe. She could catch his watchful eye on her ever so often when someone passed by them. She stood at his side, walking in kitten heels and taking notes in her journal when she saw fit. She had notes about the buildings and their addresses in relevance to what was around them, the citizen’s reactions to seeing him, little things like that. What took up most of her pages was the way they treated her when they noticed she was in his company. When they were in his Antiquities shop (complete with a backroom for some reason and a well used cot) there wasn’t any problem. It was after, when he’d turned his sign to _Out to Lunch_.

They took his car to a place run by a woman named Granny who’d been the only one not to care about Gold’s influence through intimidation. She took one look at Belle, as would everyone else that day, with sympathy. Gold changed as well when they were in mixed company. He went from opening and communicative with her about anything she wanted to stoic and hidden away from her. Not like her old “friends” who were ashamed to be with her during the court dates which was her initial thought. She sat across from him in a booth not far from the breakfast bar and smiled encouragingly at him. He returned it and opened his mouth to say something kind, but the waitress with red streaks in her hair came over and killed that.

“Hi! Welcome to Storybrooke. You new? Granny runs a pretty decent bed’n breakfast.”

“I’m well situated, thank you.” Belle assured then looked at Gold. “What do you recommend?”

“We’ll have two of my usual.” Gold folded his menu and passed it to Ruby who raised a thick, yet manicured, brow at him.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Gold. I’ll let you screw this date up on your own.”

“I’ll have you know Ms. Lucas, I don’t-”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Belle disrupted, reaching across and taking his hand, propping her chin on her other palm.

“Huh. Okay.” Ruby laughed off, seeing what Belle was intending. Unfortunately, Gold looked confused for the both of them. He looked to her for an explanation.

“You’re a kind person, Mr. Gold. In exchange for…what you’re doing for me,” she paused to adjust her breathing. Her fingers tightened around his. “I think it’ll be easier if we were to be together and I’m just moving in with you.”

Mr. Gold sat back against the booth. His eyes had widened, but were focused back to normal. He also hadn’t removed his hand from hers as he seemed to be in thought. Belle had other intentions than that she wouldn’t say. While she hadn’t been with him long, she knew that he wasn’t what they saw. Someone as vile as him did not speak gentle to others and hold them in the middle of the night after opening their home. They didn’t look at her and see just assumptions based on little fact. After a moment of his own contemplation on her proposal, he finally turned his hand and held hers as well. He gave a small nod and a tight lipped smile. She decided then on that look that he gave her that his eyes were the color of honey. 

After a double order of burgers, sweet tea, and fries, they continued to stroll around town. She let him read her journal about the little things she’d thought noteworthy to jot down while she window shopped at an arm’s length from him. At one point she glanced over her shoulder to wave him near to see the necklace on display. She shot him a smile before walking into the pawn shop with Gold walking in begrudgingly right behind her. He kept closer behind her as she viewed the jewelry kept by the front of the register. He kept his nose in her journal and refused to make eye contact with anybody. The people working didn’t stop looking at him suspiciously which began to make her anxious. She stepped right into his side away from their intense, sharp, glares and pushed him out the door.

“Are you alright?”

“The way they were looking. It was just like the jury on that last day.” Belle said under her breath to the ground.

“Oh. That’s probably due to the fact I think pawn shops are disgusting and they know it.” He shrugged, nonchalant.

“You aren’t welcome there?”

“I am free to walk into any establishment I please. There just might not be a pleasurable experience in it for you.”

With that, Belle took his arm. “You are my hero, Gold. If you don’t want to go somewhere, it’s okay.”

He guided her more eastward towards uptown. “Fine clothes shopping down this way.”

Belle followed alongside him and said nothing. Every other time she’d gone to buy new clothes was with her hus-…former husband. He’d pick whatever he thought might look best. They’d spend hours in every department searching for things that were up to his specifications. Just so that night or at an event he could…She tensed suddenly and kept her eyes ahead instead of looking around for Gaston’s ever watching god eye. She must had stopped at some point because he tugged her along. Belle was glad that he did.She didn’t want to stop moving. She wanted to do things she used to with her former husband that were probably better with other company. Gold kept her along where she needed to be.

The boutique they went to was cozy in size with a lot of blush colored pinks and robin’s eggs blue. Towards the front were baby clothes and items for a newborn baby with cute sayings in silver or gold shimmer. Men’s items didn’t seem to be as prominent as women’s which only made Belle more curious about where Gold got his suits. She stood waiting for a minute before realizing he was waiting on her to go browse. She let go of his arm to do so, heading towards the side where home decor items were near the women’s clothes. He meanwhile went to speak with the man talking to the cashier. Belle inhaled then exhaled slowly before picking out things. She wasn’t concerned about price, despite this place being rather expensive. She had been given her own allowance for instances like this taken out of her housing fund so Gold wasn’t really paying for anything.

“Hi, can I help you find anything?” A man in a green blazer and yellow tie approached, fixing his blue boutonniere before smiling properly at her.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Belle lied easily. He looked skeptical, but his smile didn’t falter.

“If you need anything, consider yourself our personal guest. Anything you need.” He excused himself and Belle’s voice jumped from her throat.

“Actually, do you…do you do sizes?” She felt her face flush at having to ask. “It’s been awhile.”

“Certainly. My partner here can help you with anything you might need.” He motioned to who Gold was talking to, the one at the register.

“He and Mr. Gold seem very cordial to one another?” She questioned while looking through sizes that looked similar to what she wore.

“They’re one of the same mind, I believe.” He agreed, holding up a pleated grey skirt to visualize it on her. It seemed to fit his vision as he placed it on her arm with a few others she’d picked.

“Are you new to Storybrooke? I don’t recall ever hearing that accent before. Doubt I’d ever forget.” 

“Just in.” She wasn’t permitted to say she was from California anymore and she didn’t want to knowingly lie to anyone when she didn’t have to.

“A woman of excellent tastes in clothes and men.” 

“Lumiere, leave the poor girl alone.” The cashier walked over in a suit of all brown that somehow didn’t seem tacky. Gold was now nowhere to be found and fear alerted her every nerve.

“You had Mr. Gold away from her so long, she needed a bit of company. What did you do with the man anyway?” 

“Discussing our income goal for this quarter with Wandla.” He waved off Lumiere and then addressed Belle. “He’ll be out shortly, my dear. In the meantime do you have anything that may need tailored?”

“Your partner said you could help me find my right size?”

“Partner!” He balked with laughter and red faced shame. “Does it say Lumiere Light anywhere on the sign outside or signature on his check each month?”

“I do in your heart, Worthy, _mon ami_.” He grinned, skipping towards the back room where, apparently _his_ boss, had said Mr. Gold was with a Wandla. Belle heard a woman’s impressive laughter as soon as she realized Lumiere was back there.

“Now, my girl. Let’s get you settled with some new clothes that fit you well.” 

Belle initially felt this to be a test on whether or not she could handle being away from Gold for a time. Within a few moments of Worthy’s measuring and teaching on the manufacturing of clothes, she lost track of time altogether. She’d never had someone dote on her so much and not take “it’s fine” for an answer. The only thing she’d picked out that actually fit was the gray skirt Lumiere had chosen which was somehow comforting. Even as Worthy had to measure her for a better fit brassiere she didn’t feel out of her element too much. She felt if she were in the company of any other strange man she wouldn’t have been able to handle it, no matter if they were more professional or not. Worthy was too much of a perfectionist for any nonsense. She could have been a mannequin to him, it seemed like. He discarded the bra she’d worn there with quiet ease and not made any kind of conversation about why all her clothes were two sizes too small at best.

Belle waited in the dressing room in a white silk robe while Worthy went back to the main floor for more clothes to test. He’d even pinned her hair up in a clip to keep out of his way. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t think she’d ever looked so much like herself. Belle LeGume always wore the things that were overly conservative, but small enough to show every curve, every angle, every fat roll of her body that caused a dimple in her back. She wore what was chosen for her by the man of the house. From her father to her former husband. She was on house arrest during the funeral and had sat in her bedroom wearing absolutely nothing for most of the day. Sitting in the bathroom felt much like that liberation. She smiled to herself in the mirror.

She stepped out of the dressing room several moments later in a bra, shoes, underwear, and dress that fit perfectly. None of it was tailored, even. There were things in this shop that fit her and she’d never be able to forget that. Gold came from the back hallway after his business with Wandla, a plump black woman with a very beautiful and loud voice, and just looked at Belle. Suddenly too nervous, she put on a fake smile and spun to seek his approval.

“Ms. Lacey, you look divine!” Lumiere praised, coming up and taking her hands.

“Oh, is this the sweetheart you are so smitten with, Gold?” Wandla asked, coming forth to meet Belle as well.

“Er- yes. Lacey, this is Wandla Rouge, Lumiere Light, and Cognac Worthy. This is Lacey French.” Gold introduced.

“Please, continue to call me by my surname.” Worthy begged, scrunching his face.

“French lace, doesn’t that take you back, _mon amor_?” Lumiere swooned over Wandla.

“Oh, doesn’t it?” Wandla laughed and began to waltz around the store with Lumiere.

“Are they together?” Belle asked Worthy.

“One of the same heart, I believe.” Worthy rephrased what Lumiere had said earlier. “No, he’s mildly annoying today. You should be here on Tuesdays when Etta comes in.”

“Etta?”

“She teaches ballet and is the sole proprietor of the drama and arts department in the school.” Worthy explained while folding up her purchases into garment bags and laid them across the counter.

“Find everything you needed?” Gold placed a hand on her arm to catch her attention.

“Do you like it?” She stepped back and extended her arms.

“Very pretty. I expected nothing less.”

“You’ll be ready for the most romantic date night this beast can muster.” Wandla swept forward and patted Gold on the shoulder while he signed the check. Belle would give him the cash to pay him back at another time. Paying with cash would be strange if she were ever tracked. Memorable.

Later that evening after another homemade meal and Belle was putting her new clothes up in the closet, she changed into her new pajamas and went back downstairs. Gold was still sitting where she’d left him at dinner and didn’t notice her until she wrapped her arms around his neck in a friendly manner. She had no idea how to thank him for the kindness he’d shown her and the help in adjusting to her new life. He didn’t make any acknowledgment of her even being there for a solid second until she started to withdraw and go back up to her room. He placed a hand on her arm where it rested across his collarbones. Belle found herself growing warmer from the fireplace glow.

—

Gold found it incredibly difficult to focus on any kind of work with his new house guest around. Her beauty was unimagined, her energy and light brighter than any sun as it no doubt was for all she met. All the cases he’d handled before hadn’t been as charismatic or enchanting as she. As great as it was that Belle was settling in to a corner of the town, Gold couldn’t forget her first night in the house. He could chalk what she said up to the stress of the trial being over, having to relive it, being in a new house with a stranger. Yet part of him wouldn’t let it go.

She had been declared innocent because some detective had made a mistake. She’d been let go and, for her protection against the mass amount of threats against her life, sent to him. He planned on reading her case file after dinner while she was in bed to either sate his worry that she possibly had done something or ease his thoughts that she hadn’t. He had only read her character file to know if she had any history of violence or anything he needed to worry about while she was living with him. Gold had just flipped the page to dive deeper when her arms wrapped around his neck. For a moment, he’d seriously believed she was there to strangle him. But then he felt her breath on his neck and like a sick, twisted fool, hadn’t been able to let her go. Her arm was soft beneath his calloused hand. 

Belle had him ensnared, leaving him weak to her whims. He closed his eyes and held his breath to keep himself from inhaling her rose-lavender lotion. He removed her arm with ease and met her eyes. As she leaned forward, his body reacted without him even thinking about his action. If she hadn’t kissed his forehead, he’d no doubt have taken her in his arms and kissed her lips. He didn’t know which was scarier, acknowledging that he was attracted to her or being attracted to someone convicted of brutally murdering her husband.


	3. Character Restoration

Belle had been living with Mr. Gold for just over a week and things were going swimmingly according to progress. She’d gotten a job at the library while Mrs. Potts was edging into her retirement to run a cafe. Working just across the street at five hours a day had given her something to do that utilized her favorite hobby. She had few skill sets, but finding something that made her feel useful had helped the continuing night terrors. More than once she had woken somewhere in the house with Gold trying to calm her down or wake her up. It got to he point where Belle slept with a bell around her ankle so he could get up as soon as he heard it. Before she trashed his office. Again.

“Lacey, dear?” Mrs. Potts walked in, followed by her young son Christopher everyone lovingly called Chip. She was fixing to take him to see his biological mother, Mrs. Potts’s daughter-in-law. Belle wanted to know, but didn’t think it her place to ask.

“Hiya, Lacey!”

“Hello, there.” She greeted warmly, setting the book she was reading at the circulation desk. “Are you excited for today?

“Mama and I are gonna get ice cream after we visit Miss Angela. D’yah want one?” Chip asked, jumping up and down.

“No thank you, kind sir.” Belle shook her head.

“I do have something to ask of you.” The maternal woman pushed Chip towards the children’s area so the adults could talk. “I need to be out of town for a long weekend. I know you haven’t been here long, but do you believe you’ll be able to handle it?”

Belle felt a sudden rush of responsibility being thrust upon her. After the initial shock and fear washed off and she had a second to breathe, she put on a grateful smile. “I’d be delighted to. Would you like me to watch Chip as well? After school or anything?”

“He’ll be going with me.” Mrs. Potts smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Belle understood the expression though she couldn’t remember why that was.

The pair stayed around for a few moments longer to allow Chip to check out a couple of books for the drive to Boston. During her downtime for the next few hours, Belle took out the small manual for maintenance and general upkeep of the library for the refresher. There weren’t many who came in during a normal school or work day and those that did she was accustomed to. Two came in to do online college work, another came for job applications, and there was another who lingered in the general fiction section reading. He never checked anything out or read the same book twice during his visits. His favorites from what she could see were fairytale re-tellings. Whenever she found something she thought he’d like, she’d place it in his little pile. By the end of the day the stack would be empty and everything put up.

When lunchtime rolled around, she took out her left overs from last night’s dinner and dug in to eat while continuing her book from earlier in the day. Normally she’d eat in the back office while Mrs. Potts took care of the circulation desk, but she didn’t want to leave her station just in case. The normal patrons were used to the smell of good food and the odd straggler only ever commented on how wonderful it smelled. Belle wondered what they’d say if they knew it was the miserly Gold who had cooked. For now, she kept that secret to herself. It was nice to be the only one who knew that Granny was no where near the level of cooking skill Mr. Gold was. Through the glass library doors, she could see him going into his pawn shop after coming back from somewhere. Possibly a Walt Whitman poem.

Intercepting her vision and coming in on the wings of her fine tailored pantsuit came a woman Belle hadn’t yet met, but knew instantly. She’d been told of a woman with raven hair and insurmountable beauty overshadowed by intimidation tactics. Her smile dripped with honey to lure in the flies, but her eyes were the color of dark vinegar. She carried in with her the distinct, sharp smell of cinnamon. Her heels on the titled concrete floor alerted everyone that she was in the room. Belle set aside her lunch and put it beneath the circulation desk before standing up and addressing the Madame Mayor.

“Regina, good to meet you.” Belle put on a brave face and extended her hand. Regina grinned and shook it, if only out of politeness.

“Glad to see the rumor mill does still have some truthful people in it.”

“Rumors?” 

“That we’ve gotten a new librarian.” Regina said as if it were obvious. To anyone other than Belle, it was. “Did I interrupt your lunch hour? Please, continue. It smells delightful.”

“Not in front of you, it’s fine.”

“But you were eating in front of the patrons?” Regina pointed out. As if caught with her hand in the sweets jar, Belle didn’t know what to say to defend herself. She couldn’t say that they hadn’t minded.

Just then the little boy who had been her silent companion came forward looking cheery eyed with rosy cheeks. “Hi, mom. Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, I was. Henry, why aren’t you in school?” Regina then narrowed her eyes at Belle. “You didn’t think it strange a child was here during a school day?”

“I-”

“And what is going on here?” The universe gave her one more lifeline in the form of Mr. Gold. He swept around the Mayor and stood beside Belle, arm on her waist. The patrons who had been minding their own business left quickly at the sight of him. Belle deflated and felt Gold hug her nearer.

“Your new employee has thought it to be a good idea to keep Henry from school.” Regina accused.

“That’s not what was going on.” Belle found her voice with the support by her side. “It was my understanding that there was an agreement you had with the school. I thought it was very commendable and forward thinking of you to allow your child extracurricular studying outside of the school.” 

Regina opened her mouth to argue, but instead said “Consider me a traditionalist.”

“Considering the funding you helped raised to get teachers better pay, I couldn’t be less surprised.” Belle smiled then addressed Henry who just looked confused. “If you ever want to visit again with your mom, I’m sure we’d both appreciate it. You are one of my favorite guests.”

“I don’t think so. Any book Henry wants, I can find and buy for him.” Regina dismissed in a way that struck Belle to her core. For her own safety and to keep Gold from having any problems out of her, Belle kept a forced smile.

“It is good that you are able to. But should you need a recommendation, or if something is age appropriate, I, as a librarian, am here to help. Excuse me.” 

Belle exhaled when she was away from Regina and began putting books left in the outside drop box. She just hoped that Gold wasn’t going to report this to her caseworker. Qualifying her as “unable to perform interpersonal relations in a work environment” would not help her show that she was a good person. She hadn’t lost her temper, she handled it as best she could for her first day alone on the job. Things were going well and she needed not to get so in her head about one bad interaction affection the rest of her life. She could feel Gold coming to her side before she saw him or smelled his cologne which had become so familiar to her in their short time together.

“Am I in trouble?” She asked, handing him a book to shelf.

“We’re invited to Henry’s eleventh birthday party next weekend.” He informed. “She finds you threatening. I must apologize for that one.”

“I was warned about her from Mrs. Potts. Apparently Henry makes his escape here every other month.” 

“You didn’t think it important enough to mention to Regina?”

Belle shook her head. “In my experience, young children come to libraries alone when they have no place to go. I’m not taking that from him. Did you come to the library for any reason?”

“I saw Mrs. Potts leave this morning and wanted to see how you were holding up.” He explained, eyes having changed as he watched her.

“I’m fine.” She assured, looking at him then. “I know her type well.”

“You’re not supposed to be standing out.” Gold reminded, lowering his voice.

“Nobody remembers the ‘yes man’. If anything, she’ll have a more pleasant word to say about me opposite an incredibly negative one.” Belle spoke wise, as if she had been in this predicament before.

“I’ll be back to gather you to go home. Never leave without me, understand.”

“Of course.” She smiled, mood lighting now that they were on a more comfortable, albeit still strange, topic. He started to leave until he scanned over her.

“Is that one of the new ones? I haven’t seen you wear it before.” He asked. She nodded, seeking approval. “It’s pretty. Yellow suits you.”

—

Gold leaned against the glass counter after returning from the library. He peered in at the objects, but couldn’t see any of the beautiful objects resting behind his own reflection glaring back at him. He could have spat venom in Regina’s face for trying to diminish Belle like that. Not that he’d ever been particularly swayed by the library work. Mrs. Potts was a good woman and more than happy to let Belle work under wing. The off time to visit Christopher’s biological mother in Boston had only been granted to give Belle her own kind of responsibility. Regina could have hardly waited until the normal librarian was outside of town lines before stomping in and frightening the poor young woman.

Belle had taken care of herself well, but that wasn’t what had him in his frustrated state now. She’d smiled at him before, but today when it came from him complimenting that damn yellow dress, something inside of him twisted. He tightened his fists and took several deep breaths. Fake dating her wasn’t an issue whenever they were quite platonic to one another in real life. Doing so when he found her clouding his every thought, so her in every gorgeous item, compared her to anything that dazzled and was blue, was another issue. Finding her perfected as carved marble, only to discover what had cut her into the Venus he saw now, was the real problem. What she was accused of doing to a man she’d sworn in front of God and everyone that knew her…it was enough to give him nightmares ever since. Thankfully, Belle’s own sleep schedule had kept him from any rest. This way he could rest his eyes in his shop and find a kinder version of them both waiting in his dreams.


	4. Rights

The evening before Henry Mills eleventh birthday party dinner, Belle and Mr. Gold were seen together looking very romantic. She had her arm wrapped around his and was visiting Gepetto’s, a high end toy shop very few in the town could even afford. The twinkling fairy lights in the early night accentuated the warmth and the loving spice smell, as well as that of fresh cut grass and burning wood from the center of the building. It was designed like a cabin in he middle of a wintry woods near the holidays and she loved it. She had his casual suit jacket draped across her shoulders after getting chilly from the Cadillac. She teased him about never returning it, but she believed he wouldn’t have minded. That he may literally give her the shirt off his back put a calmness in her chest. She liked being near him, she liked wearing an item of his clothing. Belle had never felt such happiness around another person.

“What do you think about this?” She motioned towards a figurine of a knight carrying a beautiful princess.

“I believe he’s still in the realm of dragons as opposed to damsels.” Gold dismissed, shaking his head. Belle hummed in response and continued looking.

“I don’t understand this town. What kind of place has a political party for a child’s birthday?” She asked, scrunching her nose at a pair of creepy clown dummies.

“Regina’s.” He sighed, turning a gilded carriage around in his hand.

“Of course. Oh, look at these!” She pulled his elbow over to where a series of tapestries were. They looked Medieval in design, but were picture stories of different fairy tales.

“They are quite beautiful. Which do you prefer?”

“I’ve always been a fan of Beauty and the Beast, but I think Henry would prefer Snow White.” She pointed at the one with the titular princess in a glass coffin.

“Go ahead. Get them both.” He nodded when she looked at him with worry.

Belle reached to do so, but retracted her hand. Instead she took the Snow White ones down carefully and held them across her fingers. She stepped forward to Gold and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. A blush spread across her face not that anyone could tell in the lowlight. He was soft, as was the look in his eyes. They hadn’t even known each other a month and she could stand there for as long as he’d allow it. He’d cared for her in ways that no other person had before. When he looked at her, he didn’t act as though he saw anyone other than who she was. He was her best friend. She’d never had a friend before that wasn’t a character from a book. She believed in his ability to help her out from a slump.

“Is-” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is there anything else you would like to find for Henry?”

“I think this will be perfect.” She placed her free hand in his to lead him towards a register.

Gepetto was a kind older man with a quite voice that should have belonged to a Santa Clause. He commended her on her wonderful choice for Henry, agreeing that the inquisitive, shy, and bookworm of a lad would enjoy the decorative item. He then brought up his gift, a book of all fairy tales as they were written with gorgeous illustrations. Belle looked over it with him while Gold stood idly by with a hand gently rubbing her back as if nothing were any different. She smiled over the images and discussed stories and the origin of his toys. He mentioned how Regina had wanted him to take it out of stock because it filled Henry’s mind with false hope. Belle frowned and looked in Gold’s direction who smiled apologetically. By the time the pair of them left, Belle believed she had found a companion in the old man.

Belle and Gold sat on the sofa in the living room in their pajamas, Henry’s present wrapped and sitting on the coffee table. She inched closer as the movie grew to a slower part and the music started to lull her into a sense of security. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, smiling as he drew her near. Dangerous territory surrounded them in red alarm signals and she couldn’t find it in her heart to care. She was happy for the first time in twenty years. If she had peace with Gold, she thought she deserved to be selfish and absorb all of it. She tucked them both under the quilt that was kept on the sofa. She glanced his way and found him dazing on the palm he held his cheek against. She nestled back on his shoulder to snuggle against him and soon found herself asleep there as well.

She awoke a few hours later. Not from nightmares. Not from Gold waking her from sleepwalking. Just her natural body clock waking, unused to sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Belle was lying on her back with him mostly atop of her, wrapped in her arms. Too tired to really focus on anything in particular, she adjusted a bit to retrieve her arm from beneath him and get more comfortable. He shifted as well in her movements and became the little spoon. She smiled tiredly and kissed his shoulder without thinking anything of it. In her dreams, Belle found him waiting there as well to hold her and comfort the bad things away. He confessed to having done worse than she could have ever imagined. The blood on their hands was shaped like a mirrored Rorschach test and fit into one odd inkblot of a picture.

The sound of him groaning in pain was what caused her to wake the next time. She sat up on alert and watched as he struggled to push himself off the sofa, stumbling a bit on the foot he couldn’t walk in. Belle was quick to get up and move beneath his arm once more to help him walk. He grumbled something in her general direction about not needing help. She agreed and continued to do so, knowing he probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning. She handed him his cane and stepped with him up the stairs and into his bedroom, just on the other side of her bedroom’s wall. She kicked the door open and nearly dropped him on the bed, going down with him. Belle landed once more in his arms, only next to him. His curtains were drawn back to allow in the moonlight to dance across the left side of his cheek. Distracted and lethargic, she caressed his hair back from his face and admired him.Without taking his eyes off her, he raised just enough to push the blankets down for them both.

— 

That night Gold found something out about Belle her husband never knew: she snored in her sleep. He liked to listen to her as the clock in the square began to tick further away from 7:15 for the first time in exactly eleven years and the arrival of a yellow beetle.


	5. Alley Court

The day was raring on half past nine by the time both Belle and Mr. Gold awoke in his room. She couldn’t say she minded and would believe he didn’t either as he made no motion to move. As she laid on her back and smiled at his arm resting across her abdomen, she couldn’t easily recollect having any night terrors. It felt perfectly natural as if here was where she was meant to be. She inched just a tiny bit closer to share his pillow when he gave a grumble smile good-morning. They stayed looking into each other’s eyes while he aimed to move himself from her as the seconds dragged on. Belle instinctively grasped his elbow and held him there. She found her affections for him quite strange just then. Once she’d been married to a man who was desired by many and found horrors around every corner. Now she was fake engaged to someone all feared and only saw light after years in the dark. For her this was one of the most romantic moments of her life. But she knew, in his eyes, there was minimal more frightening than being this close to someone accused to murder. Particularly if he felt as much for her as she did of him.

She’d have to tell him at some point everything that was only in court documents and not released to the public. Perhaps he’d understand. Belle couldn’t think about the opposite right now, if he became as afraid of her like everyone else. She had to remember to stay here in this moment and not be anywhere else. She was safe. Gold had promised to protect her and she knew he was a man of his word. She rolled onto her side and his hand moved around to press into her back. Their noses were a breath apart and she then could smell the minty breath of someone just having brushed his teeth. She could feel the soft fabric of silk and realized not only had he gotten up in he morning to brush his teeth, but he’d changed into clothes for bed and then come back to her. He did care, or contain some semblance of it within him. She leaned forward and held the side of his face as gentle as could be. His eyes, honey with a little sharpness of cinnamon, softened down to melt her heart. 

“It’s getting late in the day. We should get up.” He said, keeping one hand on her back and using the other to tuck her hair behind her ears.

“Today is a Sunday. We could stay in together until the birthday party, if you wanted to.” She began brushing her thumb against the collar of his pajama shirt, still amazed he chose sleeping near her over sleeping alone.

“I’m not sure about that. Somebody might need an impromptu engagement ring they can’t afford.”

“You’ll come home for lunch then?”

The air went stagnate as if Gold just realized this wasn’t a dream and every action between them held a larger consequence. His eyes had lost their cutting edges and went back to looking the way he did when seeing anybody else in Storybrooke. The pain resonated deep within her at the thought of her only ever being another face to look at to him. Needing a lasting impression that would make her different than the rest and show him that she cared for him above others, she held his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. It was as chaste and innocent as a loving summer embrace, but felt like making love to someone she loved for the second time. He knew her, she knew him. There was just heat and desperation to feel important in this timid relationship. As Belle pulled back, having moved mostly on top of him, she watched as his eyes slowly opened and re-focused on her. He then nodded to answer her question that yes, being home for lunch was perfectly reasonable, but having a second kiss in bed on Sunday was higher on the list of importance.

It was near twelve by the time they actually left the bed in search of a good hearted lunch. Kiss stained lips were the extent of their bedroom ventures, yet they still walked around the kitchen together lovestruck and hazy. Gold became more affectionate now and she took it in stride knowing he probably wouldn’t in public despite their being fake engaged. At least now their happiness and enjoying each other’s company wasn’t all acting. He stood behind her as she used the kitchen to make sandwiches for the both of them. He did nothing that would be too far at this point, only reached around her to help instead of standing idly by or next to her. She had to shoo him away after his cologne became too distracting and she nearly hurt her finger cutting the crust off the bread. She handed him his as they went to the small outdoor garden to sit side by side on two wooden rocking chairs. There was a beautiful breeze gliding through the leaves to bring the smell of roses surrounding them. They ate in peaceful silence listening to the birds sing high above and the soft white noise of the town bustling in life.

“We should do this every Sunday.” She murmured, glancing over at him.

“Do you think so?” He extended a hand and Belle took it to lace their fingers.

“Only because I don’t think you would every day.” 

“I would.” He assured, standing and helping her to her feet.

“I’m so happy with you.” She set the remnants of her sandwich on the little outdoor table and then hugged his neck. “I’m safe with you.”

“Of course you are.” He placed his forehead to hers. “Safe and happy, the Gold Guarantee.”

There was a grin and a deep blush on Belle’s face as she asked, “What deal did I so luckily get to spend all morning kissing you?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, suddenly looking very confused and self-aware. “I don’t know how any of this happened. You just…happen.”

“It scares me, too. This is very fast and very strange. But this feels good.” She held herself against him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer for a long, full, three seconds. Her heart kept time and she was about to apologize when he finally spoke. Gold didn’t actually trust her, she realized. Not completely at least. He was still wary about what she’d almost gotten life in prison for had it not been for a lucky break. The difference between standing before him in a tangerine top and in a state penitentiary was that her late husband hadn’t been smart. She tried not to dwell on that fact and what became of the incompetence of everyone she’d ever known. Now it was the intelligence of someone looking at the presented facts and coming to his own conclusion. Gold was smart and frighteningly cunning. He kept people safe and had a record for always getting the full story out of those he guarded. His silence on her question planted seeds of doubt in her veins. At least now they were in the same place. A confession followed by hesitance, caution. Her rose colored glasses were gone and she could see the flags had been stitched red all along. This was doomed to fail.

If the remainder of the afternoon had been quiet then the drive to the birthday party had been stifling. Belle felt as though he’d held a gloved hand to her throat, but she was keeping him there. All she had to do was tell him the truth. Communicating would alleviate a good deal of their problems currently and moving forward. However, she wasn’t saying anything until he asked. He didn’t seem intent on talking at all it seemed as his sharp eyes focused on the road before him. To his credit he hadn’t gone back to the pawn shop after his lunch hour was supposed to be over. He didn’t run away, merely avoided at all costs. He gave passive answers to each of her questions and eliminated their fruitful conversations she’d come to look forward to. At one point she asked if he wanted cherries in his tea and he merely replied that he’d take what she was having. Out of spite and hoping he’d say something of value, she chopped up a plump maraschino red beauty and put in his cup. Gold dropped and broke the poor thing out of shock, yet things remained the same. Belle wasn’t proud to say how much it hurt her.

They entered Regina’s lavish marble castle together arm-in-arm but separated shortly thereafter. Right when she needed him the most. Belle hadn’t been around crowds looking at her and expecting to see something in what felt like a lifetime. She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, repeatedly, until she could feel it warm beneath her fingertips. She began to rub her arms and breathe shallow as though she’d been tossed to the cold. Regina was serving champagne to her political friends / birthday guests and Belle took several flutes. As the hours into the night began growing she found no one to talk to longer than a few pleasantries and condolences on her engagement to Gold. She merely shrugged and began to dissolve into the wallpaper while Regina called up for Henry for the seventeenth time. Belle didn’t know how to speak up and say that he wasn’t coming because what child wanted their birthday spent like this? If he was smart he’d runaway by now to another state.

“We need to go.” Gold appeared from nowhere.

“Fulfilled your duty as top constituent in Regina’s torment of her son? Gathering the votes for the next mayoral campaign, made promises of donating to charity because of your loving heart.” Belle hissed under breath, the effects of the champagne she’d nursed over and over again swimming in her brain.

“Are you pissed?” He half smirked. She knew his meaning and decided to ignore it.

“No, I’m not mad. Just- disappointed.” She poked him in the chest with the finger around the neck of the glass.

“What have I done to you already? We aren’t even married yet, dearie.”

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped, hot iron burning in her eyes enough to steel-trap his mouth shut.

“Well, you can be disappointed in me at home.” 

He reached out to take her arm. A simple, almost caring, little task. She felt guilty for flinching. His eyes looked around and Belle followed them to see they’d gathered a crowd from their quarreling. Her heart began to race and her hand grew warm. Looking at it, she found glass shattered on the floor, what she wasn’t clenching anyway. Blood was pooling in her hand and she cupped it to keep it from dropping on Regina’s white floors.

“I didn’t ask who needed the police escorts tonight. I’m not the person that hit the poor sap. I want everyone you have off their asses and looking for my s- what’s going on here!” Regina pushed through the crowd to see the commotion. 

“Thought I heard you two yelling. Get her out of here, Gold. Do not let her drop blood on my driveway. If you have to go to the hospital, go to the next town over. Everyone’s on the search for Henry.”

“Gold?” Belle breathed 

“Come, love.” He reached for her shoulders and then squared his soul on Regina. “Do tell Henry happy birthday from us. Come by the shop, he can have his pick of the lot. There’s an old steering wheel he’s had his eye on.”

Regina snarled ready to pounce. Instead she grit through her teeth. “Out.”

Once they were on the other side of Regina’s hellscape Gold properly ripped his sleeve with ease and wound it tight around her hand. He took Belle to the hospital, the silence now nerve-wracking and anticipating. He drove her to the hospital within town and rushed her in through the emergency room. When the receptionist wanted them to go to the waiting room, Gold cursed in a heavy Scottish brogue Belle didn’t understand. Regardless it got a doctor to escort them into an empty room. Gold stood behind in a firm stance of crossed arms and watched intensely as they took her temperature twice, her blood pressure, and asked her about nausea and dizziness. They properly wrapped her hand temporarily and he wanted to stay while she peed in a cup to test for infection simply because he wasn’t paying attention. His brain just registered they wanted to leave her alone for something. It was one of the most awkward things she’d had to do with one hand. 

They gave her something for the pain just in case and gave her a few moments to sit with her thoughts and Gold while waiting on someone to give her stitches. It was at the awkward part between her thumb and pointer finger. Belle winced through the first few needle pricks, literally grinning and baring it. Finally Gold took pity and sat next to her. She looked at him apologetically for this entire mess and saw the shine in his eyes that had been there when they woke up together. She smiled a little more real and buried her head in his neck. He took her good hand and let her squeeze as much as she needed. Belle hadn’t felt a thing when the glass cut her so deep. Guilt and a high point of anxiety had completely replaced any pain. Someone who thought she’d done what she had might take her to the hospital, but they wouldn’t hold her hand. When the doctor finished her awkward stitches and wrapped her hand, Gold kissed her temple and asked if she was okay.

“Tired.” She lingered her lips against his cheek.

“You’ll allow me to drive you home then?”

“If you talk to me.” She met his eyes. “If you want to know anything, all you have to do is ask.”

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” They were alone as he asked this and all the worry in the world right then was in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” She said honestly. “I never wanted to tell anyone what happened anymore.”

“You don’t…you aren’t required to tell me.”

Belle smiled pitifully. “I don’t want you to look at me the way you did this morning in your garden again.

“How did I-”

“-not arguing that he’s your son and you raised him, but Henry’s not hurt.” A stranger’s voice argued coming up the hallway.

“You are a complete stranger to the both of us and my son left to see you in the middle of the night during the birthday party I worked so hard to put together.” Regina countered, passing by with a strong grip on Henry’s shoulders. They were being followed by a young blonde woman.

“One moment, love, I think my services are about to be required.” Gold put on a winning grin. “I’ll be right back to collect you.”

“While you’re out, bring me a painkiller stronger than what they gave me.” Belle called, rubbing her forehead.

“Not mixing it with the champagne you had.”

“She watered it down and I only had enough to take the edge off of being left alone in a place I knew nobody.” 

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’ll make it up tonight.”

— 

Mr. Gold stepped out of Belle’s hospital room and rolled his neck around. He could talk to her later and figure out what had bothered her so much after such a warm morning and lunch together. He’d seen his entire world in those eyes when he woke up. He felt like she belonged with him. He hadn’t experienced anything similar since-

“Mr. Gold.” Regina called him from his haze. “Get your little maid all cleaned up?”

“She’s my fiance.” Gold corrected automatically. He turned his eyes towards the other woman, the stranger. “I couldn’t help but overhear a situation arising and wanted to offer my services to our newest resident.”

The blonde watched him pull a business card from nowhere. She eyed him suspiciously, raising a brow. “Thanks. Mr. Gold, was it?”

“And you’re Henry’s biological mother.”

“Call me Emma.”


End file.
